


Solar Eclipse

by odiko_ptino



Series: Modern AU [10]
Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Gen, Secret character - Freeform, Solar Eclipse 2017, rhymes with moose, solar eclipse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:17:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odiko_ptino/pseuds/odiko_ptino
Summary: Icarus reeeeeeally wants to see it.





	Solar Eclipse

It’s impossible not to be aware of the event, even if one wasn’t in a weird live-in situation with two sun gods. 

All over the news and social media, there is constant talk of the solar eclipse. People make jokes about not buying mysterious plants, or make plans to invade the Fire Nation. They share instructions for creating pinhole cameras and seek out friends living in the path of totality, so they can stay there to see the moon completely eclipse the sun.

At the observatory where Icarus volunteers, there is a planned field trip for employees who can afford to pay, to spend a few days in Oregon before and after the eclipse. They’ll be going to watch it via one of the local observatory’s powerful telescopes, recording data about the sun’s corona that will only be visible during this eclipse, and otherwise having a great time. 

Icarus can’t afford it, so he stays behind. 

He wonders – obviously – what Apollo and Helios will be doing during this time. He still can’t quite get used to the concept that they’re gods of the sun, and he is a little curious about how it works. Their story is pretty consistent: they drive the sun-chariot across the sky. Duh. But it doesn’t make sense! How does that explain the science?! The earth is spherical! The sun doesn’t go anywhere, the earth revolves around it! The sun isn’t two attractive guys, it’s a huge ball of gas!

Every so often he raises these points, indignant and irritated, and they laugh at him and tell him he’s adorable when he’s mad. Sometimes they’ll wave their hands dismissively and say “it’s the metaphysical sky, obviously,” which isn’t obvious at all.

On the subject of the eclipse, though, they are tight-lipped and visibly grouchy about it, which makes Icarus shy away from asking about an obviously huge event. 

He gets an idea of the state of their minds when the moon shows up in his apartment – or, one of them, at least.

Icarus is resigned by now to seeing random beautiful, statuesque people (with occasional inhuman features) turn up in his life. It does annoy him that they turn up inside his home, though he doesn’t think it’d be smart to say so. 

But it takes him a moment to even realize there is a new god in his apartment – at first, he walks in and believes he’s looking at a genderbent Apollo, who’s decided to dress like a Tough Girl and is sprawled inelegantly over his couch. 

He’s staring, trying to think of what possible discreet way he can ask “what the fuck?!” when Lady-Apollo sits up, grinning widely.

“This is him! The lil guy you’ve got such a huge crush on!” 

With these bewildering words, Lady-Apollo hops off the couch and strides over to catch him up in a huge bear hug.

Icarus is still blinking in shock when a second Apollo pokes his head out from the kitchen. “Icarus. Meet my sister, Artemis, the moon.” This Apollo is still male and is wearing a sour expression.

And of course he remembers now – the twin sister, Artemis. The differences are obvious now that he realizes. Artemis is slightly shorter and her features are highlighted in silvery blue, rather than gold. But other than that, the resemblance is striking.

Icarus looks back and forth from one face to the other. “Wow, you two look – wow.” He catches himself. “Uh, that is… pleased to meet you, Artemis…” He fumbles awkwardly as he seeks to extricate himself from her hug without putting his hands to her waist or worse. 

When Artemis laughs, it’s loud and full – nothing like Apollo. “Haha! What a cutie! Look at that grouchy face, I love it! Aww, haha, he’s blushing!! 'Pollo, I gotta say, you really know how to pick ‘em.”

“Good taste has always been among my excellent qualities,” Apollo agrees, coming into the living room.

“You gotta bring him by the Grove sometime. Seriously. Leeny would eat him alive. Heheh, maybe I would too, for that matter.”

“I don’t ‘gotta’ do anything, Artemis.” In spite of his wet-blanket approach to the conversation, Apollo is watching Icarus with amusement.

Icarus can’t stop the blush from spreading. He’s never this – touchy-feely, and double-never with a woman. He has no idea what to do with his hands or what he’s supposed to say. “A-artemis, aren’t you… I mean…” he realizes what he’s nearly asking and almost chokes on the words, blush intensifying.

Artemis almost doubles over in laughter, which puts her breasts in dangerous proximity to his face. “Oh. Mygod. Apollo. This kid!” She abruptly scoops up Icarus, bridal style, and leers at him. “A virgin, were you gonna ask? Never known a man’s touch? That makes us about even, doesn’t it? Whaddaya say, 'Pollo, twins share everything, right?”

“She’s fucking with you, Icarus, feel free to punch her if you’d like,” Apollo is smirking though, entertained with Icarus’ awkwardness.

“Oh, I wouldn’t – I mean – uh – ” Icarus wants to die of embarrassment.

Both twins laugh at him, and Artemis squeezes his knee before setting him back down. “Relax, kiddo, sheesh. I’m just messing around. Ugh, you’re fucking cute. Bet you got this dweeb wrapped around your little finger, don’tcha?” she gives Apollo a solid thump on the back, making the god wince. She’s almost definitely more muscular than Apollo is – or maybe it just seems that way, because she’s wearing clothes that are designed to show them off. She really does have impressive arms for sure, and her crop top reveals abs that look like they’re chiseled from cement.

“Well, he keeps coming back, so I guess I must?” That sets her off again. 

“Yeah, that’s one sign,” she says, mussing his hair. “You gonna watch me show him up at the eclipse??”

“Oh… uh… probably I’ll see if I can watch it from here, but we’d only see the partial eclipse. I couldn’t make it to the line of totality.”

Artemis gives Apollo a disapproving look. “You’re not gonna take him someplace nice to watch the show, bro?”

Apollo folds his arms and returns the disapproval. “I’ll take him to see things worth seeing – not some two-bit clown show.”

“Sounds to me like someone’s worried about getting shown up, again.”

“’Shown up?’ By a pair of noisy drunk idiots driving an outlandish chariot and carrying on like barbarians?”

“People like flashy! That’s why no one cares about lunar eclipses!”

“People only like solar eclipses because they’re so rare, Moony!”

“No one likes a sore loser, A-dull-o!”

Icarus can’t quite tell if this is normal sibling squabbling – he suspects it is, given the level of childishness it’s provoked from Apollo (which is objectively hilarious). But even if it’s harmless by their standards, Icarus still worries about the state of his apartment. There’s still no such thing as insurance for god-levels of destruction to property.

He rushes into the kitchen, pours two glasses and hurries back out to thrust them at the bickering gods. “Lemonade?” he offers awkwardly as they stare at him. “Uh – it’s – frozen concentrate,” he adds, not sure why he’s volunteering this information, “and I’d like it if you could drink this instead of fighting.” 

Artemis looks like she wants to laugh and crush him into another bear hug, but she manages to contain herself and accepts the lemonade. “Okay, kiddo, thanks. What a precious little diplomat.”

“He’s had practice,” Apollo acknowledges grudgingly, accepting the drink as well. “Helios tends to start arguments a lot.”

Artemis’ eyes crinkle as she sips the cheap lemonade. “Oh, I’m sure Helios does,” she says, winking at Icarus. Apollo pretends not to notice.

The conversation is more civil after that. Artemis and Apollo entertain Icarus with embarrassing or stupid stories about each other, from when they were young gods. 

“…And then Hermes farted at him,” Artemis recalls fondly. “I wasn’t there when Apollo went complaining to Zeus, but from what I heard, Zeus actually had tears in his eyes from laughing. Can’t believe how fast Hermes got the King on his side.”

“Yes, Hermes has always been the master of charm,” Apollo sniffs.

“Don’t let him fool you. Those two are best friends. Hermes still calls him Big Brother sometimes.”

The eclipse isn’t mentioned again. In the interest of his health and the well-being of his apartment, Icarus is relieved. But as a guy who really, really wanted to see the eclipse… it’s a pretty big disappointment.

———————

The day of the eclipse, a few hours before it’s supposed to start, Icarus is in the library reading when he feels a tap at his shoulder.

Athena smiles down at him. “So here you are! You weren’t with the sun idiots, so I guessed I’d find you here.”

Icarus smiles back up at her, though a little weakly. “Y-yeah. Just… had some time to kill before the eclipse.”

“Ah, yes, that’s today…” Artemis rolls her eyes. “The trash-talking has reached fever pitch in Olympus. I’ll be glad when it’s over. Of course, then we only get a reprieve of about a year and a half.”

“I really wanted to see the totality,” he blurts out. “So many of my friends traveled to where they could see it, but I couldn’t afford the trip. The next time I can see it won’t be for almost seven years!” His face reddens a little at how whiny he must sound, but Athena only smiles.

“So that’s why you seem a little down,” she observes kindly. “Icarus, how silly. I can take you anywhere in the path of totality to watch, if you’d like.”

Icarus is embarrassed at his transparency. “I… I didn’t think it was right to ask…”

“Nonsense. It’s no hardship at all. I haven’t been to see it in a few centuries myself so it might be interesting on its own… Hmm.” She considers. “Go and get yourself ready, if you need anything. I’ll ask around and see if anyone else is planning to watch the show this year. I’ll come and get you in an hour.”

Icarus nods eagerly and rushes off to his apartment, throwing together his Canadian Space Agency-approved eclipse glasses and some sunscreen, just in case, some peanut butter crackers, and a bottle of water. He wonders if he should bring anything else – he doesn’t have a camera that can take a photo of the sun, which is too bad… maybe he should bring a sweater? Yes, it’s midday in summer, but he has no idea where Athena would end up going – could be a mountaintop in Colorado for all he knows – but she’s a lot more sensible than the sun gods, she ought to know to warn him. 

It isn’t until he’s sitting on his front porch waiting, that he remembers that she said she was going to see if anyone else was going to be watching. “Anyone else” presumably meaning more gods. Shit.

——–

Athena pulls her red VW convertible over to Icarus’ building, and spots him sitting on the steps. She beeps the horn and waves at him, bringing him hurrying over. She’s a little surprised to see he looks nervous, but she recalls that he described a terrifying ride in Helios’ chariot one time. That must be it. Well, he’ll soon see that some gods know how to drive their chariots smartly and responsibly.

She smiles reassuringly at him. “All right, we’ve got our afternoon planned! Heph – that is, Hephaestus, and his wife will be watching, along with another friend,” she tells him cheerfully, pulling back into traffic and guiding her chariot towards her pre-selected teleportation location. 

Unexpectedly, Icarus looks even more nervous. “Ahh, okay… um, all right, so Hephaestus – he’s the god of the forge, right, and –” Icarus pauses. Aha. So, not worried about the chariot, but worried about meeting new gods. She supposes they do have a reputation for easily taking offense. “Uh, his wife – is that – Aphrodite?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, goodness, no! That was a long time ago. I’d better summarize. Heph was married to Aphrodite, but – they divorced. It was unpleasant, to say the least. That was quite a long time ago, though, and they’re on good terms now. He remarried to one of the Graces, Aglaia. She’s completely lovely, you’ll like her.”

“Are there any other topics I shouldn’t bring up?” Icarus asks anxiously.

“Don’t worry about it so much,” she assures him. “Hephaestus is quite laid-back, and I’m sure you’ll find plenty of other topics to talk about than old myths. He’s bringing some of his gadgets along, and he’ll be excited to show them off. Plus, Aglaia is a delight to have around; she’ll certainly make conversation easy.”

“O-okay.. well, what about the other guy? Your friend?”

“Ah – Horme. He’s more of a co-worker – an associate of mine. He’s a minor god, of the spirit of energy and motivation. The ‘can-do’ spirit, if you will. He had a shrine within my temples, back in the old days. And you’ll be happy to hear that he is well-known for staying out of trouble and generally getting along with everyone.” 

Athena’s being slightly evasive here, but luckily, it’s at this moment that she enters the portal, and Icarus is only half-listening. She smiles and lets the conversation trail off as he gapes with naked amazement at the splash of stars in the Space Between Worlds. 

She doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until he lets it out in a huff and quickly puts his hands to his throat. “I… I can breathe here?” he asks, sounding dazed.

The answer is obvious – he can, and he is – but she answers the implied question of how anyway. “Yes, you’re within my aegis. Any goddess or god who travels with you outside of the mortal realm would do the same. Assuming they want you alive, that is,” she adds, for the sake of being precise.

“Ah.” Icarus falls silent and watches the constellations go by like a hall in an art museum: she points out Auriga, “my adopted son, Erichthonius,” but otherwise is content to watch the amazement in his eyes. She really does have a soft spot for mortals with a thirst for knowledge over heroism.

Eventually, she pulls out of the Space and through another portal, onto a highway with a significantly different ecosystem than the one they left – great plains with mountains in the distance. Icarus sits up, looking around.

“Oh – where are we? I thought we’d be watching them in space?”

“We’re in central Wyoming,” she informs him, navigating to the prearranged location – a public park in a small nearby town. “You may have the opportunity to see the eclipse up close later, but our company – myself included – prefers not to get too close when these events occur.”

If Icarus has more questions, he doesn’t ask. She parks her chariot and he follows her as they walk past small crowds of people, who are all excitedly talking. She overhears more than one conversation expressing astonishment that the weather cleared unexpectedly; apparently there was supposed to be stormy weather today but it never materialized, which has allowed the local population the luxury of watching the eclipse without too many out-of-town tourists.

She leads Icarus over to a stand of pine trees. Near these trees, three individuals are set up on a blanket. 

“Good morning, everyone,” she greets them all. “I’m glad to see we’ve all made it! This is Icarus, the boy that Helios and Apollo are infatuated with; you’ve heard of him, I believe.” 

Icarus’ cheeks color charmingly and he politely shakes everyone’s hand, which amuses the gods.

“This is Hephaestus, one of my brothers, and my oldest and closest peer. His wife Aglaia, the Grace of glory and beauty. And here is Horme, the spirit of effort and eagerness.” Hephaestus is wearing a t-shirt featuring humans pointing at an eclipse, with the words “It Blinded Me With Science” printed on it. Horme is wearing one that, inexplicably, features a chicken wearing eclipse glasses and no explanatory remarks.

Icarus grins upon seeing Hephaestus’ shirt. “That’s cool.”

Hephaestus grins back. “I got it from the stand over there. They’re only ten dollars if you want one yourself.”

“Did you get yours from the same stand, Horme?” Athena asks, quirking her lips.

“Nope. This one’s a one-of-a-kind.”

“I’m not surprised. And I don’t even need to ask if you got your necklace from around here, Aglaia.”

The Grace laughs. She’s declined to wear a humorous t-shirt, and instead is wearing one of her typical outfits – effortlessly elegant but casual, and has a beautiful necklace wrought of silver, in the shape of the diamond ring effect of an eclipse.

“No, of course, my talented husband created this for me, to wear for the occasion.”

“It’s beautiful,” Athena, Icarus, and Horme all say in unison, making Aglaia and Hephaestus both laugh and blush.

It’s a lovely day. The park has a band playing live music; there are food trucks selling snacks and fried meals (Icarus goes back twice for strawberry shortcake); and enterprising locals are selling t-shirts and running games. 

As Athena had expected, Icarus is extremely excited when shown Hephaestus’ new gadget – it’s a telescope of a kind of power that should not normally be possible in something so small, and it has a time-lapse camera attachment as well. Icarus is beside himself asking questions about how it works, what measurements he’s taking, and whether the technology is reproducible for mortals.

Athena, Horme and Icarus take a stroll through the park to see what there is to see and to buy snacks and a t-shirt for Icarus, and they come back to find Aglaia taking a nap in the sun while Hephaestus tinkers with his instrument one-handed. The other hand is holding one of Aglaia’s while she sleeps.

They hold hands a lot, as much as they did when they were young newlyweds, and it makes Athena beam to see it.

The eclipse takes a little over two hours from beginning to end, and it’s a joy to see Icarus’ normally dour face lighting up with excitement as he peers through his glasses or the telescope to see the moon goddesses maneuver their chariot to block and defeat the sun gods. Though of course, here in the physical realm, all that manifests is an increasingly slender crescent shape in the sky. 

“It seems so peaceful from down here,” Athena remarks at one point, as the light begins to dim around them.

“Peaceful?” Icarus asks.

“They’re… pretty competitive,” Aglaia says diplomatically.

“Oh, yeah, I guess I sort of saw… Artemis came by the other day, and she and Apollo immediately started bickering about it.”

The other three gods all groan in unison. “All four of them have been going at it for weeks,” Hephaestus says. “I guess it’s good they’re keeping up their enthusiasm after a few thousand years, but the rest of us? Well, let’s say, the novelty wears off after a while.”

Athena sniffs. “That’s why I haven’t gone to see it in so long.”

“You grouches! It’s still entertaining enough… as long as you keep your distance,” Aglaia says, giving Hephaestus a peck on the cheek.

“I heard that Zeus made a new rule that the sun gods have to wear a shirt that says ‘I got mooned’ the day after,” Horme says suddenly. 

“Oh really?” Hephaestus and Aglaia have matching contemplative expressions. 

“Well, that will make things interesting tomorrow,” Hephaestus says. “Heh, Zeus can be hilarious when he feels like it!”

Athena holds her chin in her hand thoughtfully. “I believe I observed a young lady wearing that shirt around this very park today.”

Horme laughs. “I guess the mortals share a sense of humor with the old man!”

Aglaia and Hephaestus laugh and scold Horme for speaking disrespectfully of their king, though neither sound concerned. 

Icarus hasn’t answered in a while, staring around in amazement as the streetlights come on and cicadas and crickets begin calling.

“Oh wow, I think it’s – ah, look! Up there!!”

They all obediently look. The crowd begins cheering as the last tiny sliver of the sun is eclipsed by the moon. Icarus and the gods are also cheering, and then there is only the ring in the sky. Icarus removes his glasses and gapes.

The gods murmur in conversation to each other, and Athena carefully takes a photo of Icarus standing with a look of childlike delight on his face, with the ring hanging in the sky. The photo shows up far better than the tiny sensors ought to be able to handle. She sends it to Artemis first – she’ll wait and show it to Apollo after a day or two.

Then the moon moves out of the way, and the sun comes back, bright and shining. 

Icarus goes over immediately to check out what the telescope picked up, but keeps sneaking glances up at the slowly thickening crescent through his glasses. 

“That was great,” he says.

“It was,” Athena agrees. “Aesthetically pleasing and so peaceful.”

“I can fix that!” says a new voice, belonging to the messenger god Hermes, who pops in unexpectedly a few inches behind Icarus. Icarus startles and loses his balance, nearly falling into the pile of discarded wrappers and snacks, but is caught round the waist by Hermes.

“Artemis got your text and sent me to retrieve Icarus here, insisting that he needs to see ‘the real thing,’” Hermes informs them. “You guys about wrapped up here? What do you say, Icarus, ready to roll out?”

“Wh-wha…??!”

“Yes, the totality just ended,” Athena tells Hermes. 

“Go ahead, Icarus, we can look over the telescope’s readings later,” Hephaestus encourages.

Hermes tips his hat jauntily and shifts his grip on Icarus, tucking him up under one arm, and leaping into the sky. The human’s bewildered yelling fades after him.

The remaining four gods watch as Hermes disappears into the sky with his human parcel.

“Well, this should be educational for the boy,” Aglaia remarks. 

Hephaestus laughs. “I’m sure. I haven’t dared to go back since …ah, probably sometime in the 1600s, or thereabout. Though they all ask me to make them various things to try to dominate the battle… the ladies have the most creativity there. Artemis asked for a monster truck last time; this year, Selene asked for a handmaiden to drive their chariot. I was instructed to design her to look stunningly gorgeous,” he adds, cutting his eyes over to his wife with a shy grin.

She nudges him, smiling. “So that’s why I had to come over to model? You scoundrel! Who knows what those two will do with a handmaiden that looks like me!”

Horme snickers. “I’m sure we can all- ooph!” Athena elbows him hard in the ribs.

Aglaia rolls her eyes at him and stands up, brushing grass off her skirt. “Let’s get a lemonade and some funnel cake before we leave, Heph. Do you two want anything?”

“No, thank you, Aglaia,” Athena says politely. The Grace nods to them and helps her husband to his feet, then takes his arm as they walk slowly over to the food truck.

Horme watches them go. “It’s nice to see a success story,” he says, a note of wistfulness in his voice.

“I think we’re all success stories,” Athena asserts. She begins to pack up the camera and other items they’ve brought. “Even those idiots in the sky – they’ve come a long way from the troubled, angry young gods they were.”

“They’ve changed a little more recently. The sun idiots, I mean. I guess it must be because of this mortal….Icarus.” If Horme has any thoughts on the extent or nature of the deities’ evolution, he doesn’t offer them. “Huh. You know, since I’ve been here playing the part of Horme? Taking that role, I could actually feel the kid switch from apathy to energy almost as soon as he started watching the eclipse. He’s really excited about studying the heavens.”

“He is. But he’s really more passionate about spaceflight – astrodynamics and space aviation. He wants to explore the heavens, not just look at them.”

“Oh?” Horme looks up at her, eyes crinkling. “That’s cute.”

“I agree. It’s very endearing how much the three of them care.”

They watch for another minute in silence as the moon moves away from the sun and the day gets brighter again. Down the field, some distance away, Hephaestus and Aglaia are eating their funnel cake together and laughing at the mess it makes. Finally Athena asks:

“Are you really going to make them wear that shirt, Father? There’ll be an awful lot of complaining.”

Horme snorts and waves his hand. In the sky, storm clouds appear abruptly, beginning to roll in now that the eclipse is over, as though they’d been held back for the duration. 

“They’ll survive it.”

———————–

The speed of Hermes’ flight is not something Icarus can fully register. After they’ve stopped moving, there’s a confused memory of fleeting images and sensations: the earth falling away, the air around him going cold and clear, light turning into dark, and the feeling of moving fast-fast-FAST.

They stop abruptly in front of a gold-colored Prius, floating in space. 

Hermes leans over and taps politely on the driver’s side window. “Knock knock!” he announces cheerfully. “Special delivery for Misters Apollo and Helios! Will you sign for this parcel?”

The window rolls down. “What the hell are you doing here, Hermes?” Apollo demands. “Wait – is that Icarus?”

Icarus is holding his breath reflexively, in spite of what Athena told him about the aegis; but he lets out a yelp as Hermes jostles him playfully.

“Yup! Shipped direct, courtesy of Lady Artemis.”

“Ugh.” Apollo’s face takes on a pained expression. “Well don’t just sit there with him dangling in space, Hermes, bring him in.”

Hermes moves, again, and Icarus finds himself sitting in the front passenger seat. Hermes himself has taken a seat behind Apollo, and is kicking the back of the seat, making Apollo’s scowl deepen.

“This is fun! Wow, I haven’t gotten an up close and personal seat for one of these in decades!”

“Yeah, well, mind your P’s and Q’s or you won’t get to sit here in the future,” growls Helios’ voice from immediately behind Icarus. The sun Titan leans forward, reaching around the seat to give Icarus’ leg a squeeze. “Sorry you had to be dragged into this, kiddo.”

“A-are you kidding?” Icarus is slightly embarrassed at how high and excited his voice is, and makes an effort to pitch it lower and calmer, with limited success. “I just watched this, down in Wyoming – I wanted to watch this so bad! You guys, you know I love space, and this is a huge event!”

Both sun gods’ eyes twitch at ‘huge event,’ but they sigh and offer Icarus a resigned smile.

“There are much better events than an eclipse,” Apollo tells him. “Solar flares and coronal mass ejections…”

“Lunar eclipses!” interjects Helios.

“Well, I wanna see them!!”

“Oi. You guys can try to do damage control later,” Hermes says, suppressing a smile. “Here come the ladies!”

Icarus whips his head around and peers out the window of the Prius – as Hermes has said, they’re being approached by a –

“A limousine?”

“Must have been Selene’s choice, this year,” Apollo grumbles. A heavily remixed version of Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Sisters of the Moon’ blares from the limo.

“Yooooooooooooo, Apollo! Helios!!! This classy enough for ya?!” Artemis is bellowing. She’s only visible from the waist up, as she’s standing up out of the limo’s – hah – ‘sunroof’, alongside the Titaness Selene. Both have bottles of champagne in hand, and are dressed in silvery evening wear – Artemis is wearing a white bolero with a crop top shell underneath, while Selene appears to be wearing a gown with a top made of lacey moon phases.

They both cheer when they see Icarus sitting in the front seat. 

“Icarus!!! Glad ya could make it kiddo!!”

Then the two sun gods are leaning out the window, unable to contain their competitive annoyance, and start shouting at their sisters, mostly in Greek so Icarus doesn’t understand it, but he can guess from the tone that there’s a lot of insults being flung around. Hermes is in the backseat laughing his ass off.

The moon goddesses are jeering right back. Artemis takes out her bow and takes aim – confetti and something like silly string explode over Apollo’s chariot and the limo roars off, leaving a huge cloud of foggy exhaust behind, which engulfs the chariot completely.

Apollo slumps back against his seat in a huff. “Well, at least that’s over with.”

Icarus has been mute this whole time, watching with alarm and fascination at the spectacle, and turns his head to watch the moon limo peel off into space. He looks over at Apollo in delight. 

“That was – incredible! Apollo, Helios – when’s the next lunar eclipse?”

——————————–

The next day, Icarus wakes up to see a neatly folded t-shirt on his bedside table, with the words “I got Mooned! – Metaphysical sky, 21 August 2017”.


End file.
